


Things My Heart Used to Know

by HeartlessMemo



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brain Damage, Brain Scramblies, Dubious Consent, Fluff, Guillermo accepting his feelings, Guillermo denying his feelings, Hypnosis, M/M, Nandor accepting his feelings, Nandor denying his feelings, Nandor taking care of memo, Smut, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28895883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartlessMemo/pseuds/HeartlessMemo
Summary: Post-Season 2 Episode 9 (Witches). Nandor catches Guillermo before he leaves and accidentally gives him the brain scramblies. Angst, guilt, fluff and dub con ensue as Nandor tries to manage the Consequences of his Actions.---Nandor discovered the first clue upon waking for the evening. Guillermo stood, as always, at his master’s coffin-side waiting to assist him. But when Nandor threw open the heavy lid he found his familiar standing there with a vacant smile, clutching about two dozen spoons in his pudgy little hands.“Here, master!” Guillermo gushed, dumping the spoons onto Nandor’s lap and looking up with big, hopeful eyes. “I got these for you! Do you like them?”...A memory from the previous night cast an unwelcome shadow over his mind: waving his hand in front of his familiar’s face and speaking carelessly: Guillermo, you will forget.Ah, shit.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Comments: 24
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SafetyHazard (ineedapilot)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedapilot/gifts).



> Once again I am presenting to you a fic that I could not have written without the help and inspiration of my talented friends. I cry.
> 
> Though I conceived of this fic before we met, it took me ages to write and over that time I bonded with my friend/blogging partner/thirst spirit guide, [safetyhazard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedapilot/pseuds/SafetyHazard). It became a gift for Haz. Also, um. I may have asked him to beta read his own gift fic. Thank you Haz!! And I'm so pleased that you like it.
> 
> I wonder how many of my fics have been titled by [interrobam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobam/pseuds/Interrobam) at this point? Thanks Spiff for helping me come up with a title and for always being so supportive of other writers and generous with your ideas! Also thank you to [andy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andyandnormski/pseuds/andyandnormski) and [frey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freydient/pseuds/freydient) for helping me brainstorm titles!
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoy this fic! Please do note the tags. There is an instance of dub-con that takes place in part two. The "dub" part coming in because of Guillermo's mental state, obviously. However I.... I think you'll enjoy lol.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!

Nandor discovered the first clue upon waking for the evening. Guillermo stood, as always, at his master’s coffin-side waiting to assist him. But when Nandor threw open the heavy lid he found his familiar standing there with a vacant smile, clutching about two dozen spoons in his pudgy little hands. 

“Here, master!” Guillermo gushed, dumping the spoons onto Nandor’s lap and looking up with big, hopeful eyes. “I got these for you! Do you like them?”

Nandor’s heavy brow drew low over his eyes and his frown was a half-snarl. “What the shit? Have you been drinking the human alcohol, Guillermo?”

His familiar’s face crumpled at once, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “You hate them!” he wailed, running from the crypt. 

Nandor could hear him sobbing all the way down the hall. He picked up a tarnished spoon, drumming it on the side of the coffin with a thoughtful look. A memory from the previous night cast an unwelcome shadow over his mind: waving his hand in front of his familiar’s face and speaking carelessly: **Guillermo, you will forget.**

_Ah, shit._

So... that was clue number one.

The second clue came a little while later after Nandor had managed to dress himself, like some kind of cave-pig, and had scrounged a half-drunk human from the cell. He was stalking round the house searching for his missing familiar and planning how many demerits to give him for scaring him and making him think that he was brain-scrambled. But Guillermo was nowhere to be found. 

He checked the usual spots: the depressing room under the stairs, the dilapidated kitchen, the library, the fancy room. He even checked outside to see if Guillermo was doing the gutter-cleaning project that he’d been assigned last week— but he wasn’t there either! Nandor finally trudged upstairs and poked his head into Nadja and Laszlo’s crypt— thank hell he wasn’t in there. When he’d checked everywhere else he finally ascended the narrow, rickety stairs to the attic. His palms felt clammy and his fingers trembled. He hadn’t been up there since...that night. Visions of the Baron’s creepy old body tumbling down the stairs flashed through his mind and anxiety crawled up the back of his neck. 

Nandor rounded the turn in the stairs. There were little squeaky, strangled noises coming from up there! He tried to remember if Guillermo had ever called the pest controllers about the squirrels. He’d meant to ask him about it the previous night before things had gone… so very wrong.

“Guillermo? Are you up here sharing your dried poops with the squirrels again?” he called. He took each step slowly. For some reason, he felt very reluctant to see what awaited him in the attic. He wasn’t his usual fearless self and it was all Guillermo’s fault! Very irritating! “You really shouldn’t be encouraging them, Guillermo! They make little holes in the roof and let in the sunlight!”

When he finally mounted the last step he screwed his eyes shut and cringed. They’d never done anything about the Baron’s coffin, had they? That big, creepy sarcophagus that made the scary lightning whenever it opened. He cracked open one eye and looked. The attic was much the same as he remembered. Boxes of Nadja and Laszlo’s sex stuff piled in one corner, the StairMaster sitting in another corner, a couple strands of creepy paper still fluttering from the rafters. But someone— probably Guillermo— had moved the coffin. It no longer stood up, looming and threatening like a carved, stonework demon. Now it was laying down flat with a tarp draped over it. That wasn’t scary at all! Nandor’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled, amused at his own trepidation now that the danger was over. 

Only then did he notice his little Guillermo curled up in a corner, rocking himself back and forth and crying softly. Nandor called out to him, striding over the creaky floorboards like the brave, powerful warrior that he was, rescuing his familiar from the scary room. Guillermo flinched when Nandor crouched down in front of him.

“Master?” he breathed, and when he looked up to see that it really was Nandor, his face broke out in a relieved smile even as tears spilled down his cheeks. “Master! Thank goodness! I don’t know...I don’t know how I got here. Do you know how to get home?”

Nandor eyed his familiar with a wary intensity. He leaned forward and took a sniff. No alcohol. _Was he on drugs?_ Nandor had never known Guillermo to do such a thing, but he found himself hoping it was true, because the alternative was...untenable.

“We are just in the attic, Guillermo.” Nandor tried to make his voice soft, tender. “Come with me, now. You’re very tired and perhaps you are having a fever dream. I’m going to tuck you into your little bed for the night.”

Guillermo trailed sweetly at Nandor’s side as they went back downstairs. He tucked his hand into the crook of Nandor’s elbow and leaned his cheek against his shoulder. Nandor kept glancing every which way lest one of his roommates catch him allowing this impertinence, but the house was blessedly quiet. 

“Alright, then!” Nandor sing-songed, pulling the threadbare blanket up to Guillermo’s chin. He frowned at how thin the material was before unclasping his fur-lined cape and draping it over him. His familiar smiled and buried his nose into the lush fabric. _Better._ “Time for night-night, Guillermo! And when you wake up you will be feeling better and no longer acting like you’ve been brain-scramblied. Okay?”

“Okay, master,” Guillermo sighed, his eyes falling shut.

Nandor took a deep breath and turned to leave. He was just drawing the curtain closed when he heard his human’s little voice again.

“Master, who’s Guillermo?”

  
  


The third clue came the next evening. This time Nandor awoke with a feeling of dread. He had been plagued all day long by torturous dreams. _Guillermo crying in the attic... Guillermo turning his back on Nandor and walking out the front door, letting in the sunlight and burning Nandor to ash… Guillermo staring, listless, as Nandor advanced on him with his head-ripping gloves._ He had to psych himself up to open his coffin and when he finally did, the sight that greeted him was not at all comforting. 

Guillermo— sweet, dutiful, obedient Guillermo— stood by the coffin as usual. Except his eyes were glazed over and unseeing. His mouth hung open and drool coated his chin. He reminded Nandor of that abomination, Topher. Or Sean...

Nandor spoke his name and Guillermo barely reacted. He climbed out of his coffin unassisted and grabbed the human’s shoulders. “Guillermo, can you hear me? Do you know what your name is?”

Guillermo’s eyes finally came into focus and he smiled up at Nandor with perfect trust and love. “I’m…” he paused, blinked a few times and scrunched his brow in concentration. “I don’t know...master, help me!”

_Fuck!_

Nandor ducked his head so he could look straight into Guillermo’s panicked eyes. He tried to inject calm confidence into his voice. “Your name is Guillermo de la… de la…” He broke into a hiss, unable to recall his own familiar’s second name. “You are _my Guillermo_. Please, please remember…”

Nandor’s hands had a will of their own; they moved up from Guillermo’s shoulders to cup his cheeks as he clunked their foreheads together. Guillermo looked back at his master with his big, brown eyes behind those silly spectacles. There were tears rimming his lower eyelids and Nandor watched in horror as they spilled over onto his cheeks. 

“I can’t remember, master…” he sobbed. He looked so helpless and small and not… not _Guillermo_ at all. 

Guillermo was strong. He was brave and intelligent. He was funny and kind. He came to Nandor’s room and comforted him when he had nightmares about vampire killers. Guillermo kept Nandor safe and took care of him. He was not this helpless, sobbing man now before him.

Nandor tucked his human under his chin and wrapped him in a fierce hug that he would never permit under normal circumstances. Normal circumstances… Once again, Nandor recalled what had started all of this. Discovering Guillermo in the hallway with his luggages… stopping the little man before he had a chance to leave… arguing… that kiss… Guillermo had threatened to leave for good, what else could he do?

 _This is highly embarrassing_ , he thought. The feelings he’d found so unbearable for years were now on full display as he clung to his dear little human, brain-scramblied as a direct consequence of Nandor’s selfishness. If he had only told Guillermo how he felt, maybe the little human would have stayed without Nandor needing to wipe his memory! Nandor scowled at the thought, but didn’t let go. 

“Do not worry, Guillermo,” he murmured, lips brushing the lush curls crowning Guillermo’s head. “I will take care of you.”

The little guy tightened his arms around Nandor’s middle, squeezing almost painfully as he answered, voice muffled in the fabric of Nandor’s shirt, “Thank you, master!”

Nandor patted him on the head with an uncomfortable grimace. His hand came away slightly greasy. When was the last time Guillermo had bathed?

  
  


“I love you, master.” It was the fifth time that Guillermo had said the words since their hug in the crypt. Not that Nandor was counting. The little man clung to him as he had the night before, nuzzling his face into Nandor’s bulky upper arm and practically radiating innocence and happiness. 

Nandor looked over his shoulder to check that his roommates were not lurking about dropping eaves. They were halfway up the staircase on their way to the upstairs bathroom, but Nandor was forced to keep stopping for Guillermo’s little confessions. 

“Very good, Guillermo,” he murmured absently, attempting to tug him along before they were spotted. 

The most important thing was that Nadja, Laszlo and Colin Robinson must _not_ discover that Guillermo’s brain was scrambled. Because if they knew, they would be demanding that Nandor put him out of his misery as they had almost done to their neighbor, Sean. Which would be very messy and also quite sad. Nandor shuddered at the very thought, refusing to confront the way his dead heart squeezed in his chest at the idea of hurting Guillermo. But he couldn’t fault his housemates’ imagined logic, could he? They had let Sean live when they saw he could still be of some use to Charmaine. What could Guillermo do now? He could not iron Nandor’s capes nor take out the garbage pails nor even help Nandor out of his coffin! If Guillermo was not Nandor’s familiar then what was the point of him, exactly? His heart hurt again.

“MASTER!?” Guillermo’s feet were rooted to the step; he refused to move despite Nandor’s increasingly insistent yanks on his arm. “Why don’t you say it back? Don’t you love me, too?”

Nandor’s lips curled back from his fangs as he hissed in anxiety. He would not tolerate this impertinence from Guillermo, brain-scramblied or not! A human asking a vampire to love him! It was absurd! And definitely, totally, absolutely not true! He slapped lightly at Guillermo’s clingy hand on his arm and snapped, “Stop that! You are forgetting yourself because you have been brain damaged. Now come with me before you alert the whole household and I am having to get my head-rip gloves!”

There was a time when Guillermo might have meekly submitted with a cowed, timid expression and rounded shoulders. But ever since he’d returned from Celeste’s, Guillermo had grown quite bold. Still, Nandor found himself wishing that Guillermo would roll his eyes and stomp away to his depressing room. Anything but this…

Guillermo’s knees buckled and he sank down onto the stairs with a wail of misery. “You don’t love me!” he cried at the top of his lungs. 

_FUCKING GUY!_

“Shh!! Shh!! There, there, Guillermo! You are just feeling sad because your brain has turned to pudding,” Nandor hissed, frantically lifting the human off the ground and sprinting the rest of the way upstairs with him tucked under his arm like an injured baby sheep. Guillermo sobbed the whole way.

“OY!!? What is the matter with Gizmo?!” Nadja popped her head out her crypt, a frown twisting her ruby red lips. “And can you tell him to suffer more quietly?”

“I’ll do that, Nadja!” Nandor bellowed before diving into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him. 

The change of setting seemed to calm Guillermo, at least. Nandor turned on the tap and began filling the tub with steaming water before turning back to his charge with a nervous smile. 

“Time for your bath, Guillermo,” he explained, taking off his own cape and hanging it on the hook on the back of the door. “I am going to help you like you have helped me so many times, okay?”

Guillermo nodded and submitted to Nandor undressing him with mute docility. When Nandor reached his underpanties, the vampire considered just leaving them on for modesty’s sake. But then he reminded himself that he was an ancient warrior who had seen countless naked soldiers and this should really be no different. And so he schooled his features into careful aloofness before slipping the tight little under-short things down Guillermo’s sumptuous, round thighs and toned calves, letting them pool around his ankles before helping the human to step out of them. He hardly looked at the stocky little penis nestled in a lush thatch of pubic hair between Guillermo’s legs. Hardly at all.

When Nandor finally stood up he found Guillermo gazing at the opposite wall with that look of blank stupor that was becoming alarmingly familiar. He frowned, brushing a stray curl back off Guillermo’s forehead and cupping his round cheek in his palm, guiding him to make eye contact.

“Ready for your bath, Guillermo?” he asked, emphasizing the name as if to remind the poor, broken human of who he was.

“Yes, master,” he answered automatically. Nandor had never felt more despondent over Guillermo’s obedience.

Though there was nothing wrong with Guillermo physically, Nandor still found himself holding tightly to the human’s little hand as he helped him into the bath. He seemed so fragile, so weak in this condition; Nandor feared him slipping in the water and hurting himself. He made sure Guillermo was settled, watching him lay back with a pleased sigh, before turning to study the array of lotions, soaps and tinctures on the shelf by the tub. 

“Guillermo, would you rather smell like Rosemary or Cucumber and Tea Tree Oil?” Nandor slowly enunciated the words as he read them off the labels from the bottles he’d found on Guillermo’s shelf. He eyed the rows of more luxurious oils and creams on his own shelf and added, “Or I can be giving you a hair mask like you do for me sometimes?”

Guillermo spun around to face Nandor, spilling a wave of water over the edge of the tub. “I like cucumbers, master!”

He said it with such surety that Nandor felt a spark of hope for the first time in days. Guillermo remembered something, at least. He liked cucumbers! Nandor resolved from this day onward he would guard facts about his familiar like precious gems. “Cucumbers it is! Good job, Guillermo!”

The human smiled and clapped happily, a gesture of such stunning innocence that Nandor felt the hope in his chest fizzle out immediately. But he rallied and put on a false smile, wary of upsetting the delicate human and triggering another bout of crying. “Time to wash your hair, Guillermo!” he sing-songed as he rolled up his sleeves.

Nandor certainly had never fantasized about what it might be like to turn the tables and be the one scrubbing Guillermo’s plump, juicy body in the steamy bathtub. But if he _had_ ever entertained such a fantasy, it had never involved the human being so helpless and needy that he couldn’t perform even the most basic tasks himself. Nandor painstakingly washed Guillermo’s back, his neck, behind his ears. He brought the soft, soapy sponge over Guillermo’s tender, voluptuous chest and belly, swiftly washing his most private parts and steadfastly ignoring the way the little man shivered at his touch. It was an automatic reaction. It would be shameful of Nandor to take advantage of his poor Guillermo like this.

“Your hands are so nice on my skin, master,” Guillermo commented, his head lolling against the back of the tub. 

_Fucking— !_

“I am glad, Guillermo. You have been very brave, haven’t you?” Nandor finally dropped the sponge and simply let his hands rest on Guillermo’s broad, round shoulders. “I know this has been scary for you but, look! You’re taking a bath and soon you’ll be able to do that on your own and do all of the other things you used to do as well.” Nandor’s voice broke as he desperately tried to convince himself. “Soon you will be good as new!”

“Thank you, master!” Guillermo enthused, leaning his head into Nandor’s arm and shutting his eyes. Nandor wished that Guillermo would not be thanking him quite so much. He choked on his own tears as he watched Guillermo drift on clouds of empty thoughts.

  
  


That night, Nandor put Guillermo to bed again. This time he took the time to help the little man change into his sleeping clothes. As he bade Guillermo lift his arms over his head so that he could remove his sweater and shirt, Nandor felt the most uncanny sensation. It was almost as if he were _Guillermo’s_ familiar; a concept that was simply laughable. But how many nights had Guillermo done just this for Nandor? Bathing him, helping him change for his slumber, watching over him as he drifted to sleep before slipping the coffin lid closed?

Nandor tugged the thin t-shirt over Guillermo’s head and struggled to wrangle his familiar’s thick arms through the sleeves. Guillermo was no help. He stood there swaying with a faint smile on his lips, his arms deadweight in Nandor’s grip.

“Thank you, master!” Guillermo chirped when the job was finally finished. He was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms that Nandor had discovered neatly folded in the top drawer of his little bureau. 

“You are welcome, Guillermo!” Nandor replied, infusing his voice with a matter-of-fact tone that he did not feel. All of this was so wrong. Guillermo should be the one taking care of _him_ ! Nandor would never admit this outloud, of course, but Guillermo was the strong one! The competent one. Nandor had come to rely on Guillermo’s steady support. It was why he was forced to do what he did, of course. Any vampire would agree with his course of action, he was sure… But now Guillermo had been ruined and Nandor had no scapegoat to accuse! He would normally blame _Guillermo himself_ when things went wrong but… somehow that did not feel right this time. “Alright then,” he concluded, grimacing at the absent look on Guillermo’s face. “Go to sleep now.”

And Guillermo did go to sleep. It only took three tries. Each time Nandor left the little room, Guillermo would follow until finally the vampire rounded on him in annoyance, demanding an explanation. 

For a moment Guillermo looked as though he might burst into tears again and Nandor frowned at himself. He kept forgetting that Guillermo was fragile now. But in the end the human simply whispered, “There’s a monster that lives under my bed. He eats birds and I think he wants to eat me, too.”

_Topher?_

Nandor suddenly recalled the dread that had seized his cold heart when he stepped outside to see Topher drowning his sweet Guillermo in the koi pond. But Guillermo had seemed fine afterwards! In fact, he had even read to Nandor before tucking him in that night. It had never occurred to Nandor that Guillermo could have lasting scars from the event.

“Do not be silly! There are no monsters, Guillermo. Not under your bed anyway. Now let’s go to sleep. It is almost sunrise!”

Nandor brought him back to his bedroom and made a show of checking beneath the bed just in case. “Nothing but dust rabbits, Guillermo! As I said.”

He got up to leave, but Guillermo shot his hand out from the blankets and took hold of his cape. “Master, I… I…” The little guy didn’t seem to have the words to express how he felt. 

But Nandor, in a rare flash of empathy, thought he understood. “You are feeling less courageous than usual, Guillermo. Is that it?” The human nodded, his brow wrinkling in concern. “I will stay. Just until you fall asleep.”

Nandor stayed long after Guillermo’s breath evened out and his face relaxed into innocent repose. He watched the rise and fall of his chest with every breath, counting and cherishing every inhale and exhale.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two! **This chapter includes DUB CON.** Note that the dub-con refers to both Memo and Nandor in different ways here. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!!

Days passed. A week went by. Every evening Nandor awoke with the hope that Guillermo would be magically healed, but he was always bitterly disappointed. There were good days and bad days. Some days Guillermo had his words and— even though he spoke with an unnerving and childlike innocence— they were preferable to the days when he was only capable of wordless grunts. 

Nandor managed to keep Guillermo’s condition a secret, but it was like living with the blade of an ax poised to sever his neck at every moment. He was forced to care for Guillermo in every way. Bathing him, feeding him, grooming him. At first he chafed against the sudden reversal in their stations. But Nandor soon found himself appreciating Guillermo’s thankful little smiles when he fed him a particularly tasty snack or combed his hair. And he even admitted to himself that the human’s near constant declarations of love and affection were not _entirely_ unwanted. Was this how Guillermo had always been feeling? Hiding his affection for Nandor behind those stoic eyes?

Nandor still desperately wished to reverse what had happened and to cure his Guillermo, but he found himself gradually warming to a new version of his future. One in which he would spend his days taking care of Guillermo as the human had done for him for so many years. 

_If_ he could manage to keep things under wraps and hidden from his nosy housemates, that was...  
  


“What’s wrong with Gizmo?!” Laszlo asked one evening. He stared at Guillermo, who at that moment was standing stock still facing a bookshelf with the feather duster hanging from limp fingertips. He hadn’t moved or made a sound in minutes and his lower lip shone with a thin layer of drool. 

“Nothing!” Nandor snapped, shutting his book irritably and standing to go to Guillermo’s side. “Guillermo is having a punishment for insolent behavior and is not allowed to talk today!” Nandor nudged the non-responsive human with an elbow. “Isn’t that so, Guillermo?” he asked, nodding his head to give the little man a clue.

Unfortunately, Guillermo chose this moment to have one of his flashes of lucidity. He seemed to understand Nandor’s words, because he responded with a trembling lower lip and tear-flooded eyes. “I’m sorry I was bad, master!” he cried, collapsing against the vampire and burying his head into his chest.

Nadja, Laszlo and Colin Robinson stared at the display with varying degrees of suspicion. Laszlo and Colin seemed ready to accept any amount of unexpected pathetic behavior from a human, but Nadja looked slightly more skeptical.

“Nandor, what is—”

“Uh! Oh no! I am just remembering that I have left some candles burning unattended in my crypt. Which is a major safety hazard, as Guillermo is always telling me. Come along, Guillermo!” Nandor dragged the human out of the library and down the hall, feeling the eyes of his disbelieving housemates on his back the whole way.

  
  


More days. More nights. Still, Guillermo remained unchanged; a shadow of his former self. Nandor mourned for Guillermo even while he cared for him...

One night, he had a good dream. Guillermo was cured! And even better: he’d promised never to leave Nandor again! In his dream, Nandor could love Guillermo without worrying about what his housemates would say. Without fearing that the human might secretly be thinking of abandoning him again. 

Guillermo, feather duster still clutched in one little claw, dropped to his knees on the hardwood floor of the crypt, nuzzling his chubby cheeks against Nandor’s growing arousal. 

_ I love you, sir… I want you so bad…  _

Nandor woke abruptly to the distinctly pleasurable yet alarming sensation of his penis being sucked by someone with a hot, wet, human mouth. 

“Guillermo!” he cried, half-admonishment and half-wanton-lust. “What is the meaning of— Oh!”

The coffin was open and Guillermo was crouched between Nandor’s legs, his face buried in the vampire’s crotch. At the sound of Nandor’s voice, Guillermo looked up at him through his lashes and stole Nandor’s unnecessary breath from his lungs. His eyes— gleaming, chestnut brown and wide with innocence— stared at Nandor in stupid, devoted submission that sent a thrill of arousal straight to Nandor’s twitching length and tight, throbbing balls. Guillermo pulled his mouth back from the base of Nandor’s penis, his wet lips dragging along the silky flesh and his tongue swirling around the head before he plunged back down again with a pleased, contented gurgle that shot through Nandor’s core. 

“Guillermo,” Nandor protested, half-heartedly, “you should not be— ah! — doing such things. You are not well! You are not knowing what you’re—”

Guillermo pulled his mouth off of Nandor with a moist pop that sounded obscene in the close silence of the candlelit crypt. Nandor’s hips thrust upward involuntarily, chasing the hot suction. “But it feels nice, master,” Guillermo answered with a frown. He wrapped his stout fingers around Nandor and pumped up and down as he gazed up at him. The eerie, dazed expression in Guillermo’s eyes should have repelled Nandor, but instead he found himself humping up into his familiar’s hand and staring at his slack, vacant face, lust burning in his gut. This was so very wrong...

When Nandor came, his semen shot out of his penis with typical vampiric force. It splashed over Guillermo’s face, gobs of it coating his sweet, plump lips, his cheeks, smearing his glasses and getting in his perfectly curled hair. It gushed and sprayed with inhuman intensity for a full minute. Nandor writhed, digging his fingers into the fur-lining of his coffin and unable to look away as Guillermo hovered there, dumb and unblinking, mouth slightly agape, painted by his seed like nothing more than a beating-off-pillow.

Nandor lay there, waves of sensation undulating and eddying through his pelvis and belly. His limbs twitched randomly as the orgasm wrung the last vestiges of energy from his ancient muscles. But when it finally passed and Nandor’s head cleared enough to recognize the magnitude of what had just transpired, the vampire was overcome with the most unwelcome, burning, clawing feeling in his chest and throat. It felt very hurty! Like he had betrayed himself and Guillermo all at once. But  _ Guillermo _ was the one climbing into peoples’ coffins and sucking their penises while they slept! Why did Nandor have to feel bad?

Nandor looked at Guillermo, covered in semen and panting slightly but otherwise completely blank. His mouth hung open, drool and semen pooling in the corners of his lips and spilling down over his chin. His eyes, what Nandor could see from behind the smudged lenses of his spectacles, were glazed over and unfocused. Nandor’s gaze roamed downward. Guillermo’s hands lay limply on his broad thighs and in between, tenting the fabric of his plaid pajama bottoms, his untended erection blazed like a burning accusation. 

“Guillermo.” Nandor did not recognize the sound of his own voice. It sounded so wispy and weak! He cleared his throat but it did nothing. “I am sorry, my Guillermo.”

He shifted awkwardly into a seated position; Guillermo was sitting heavily on his legs. It was obvious the exertion of…  _ that _ … had exhausted the poor pudding brain. He sat there idly while Nandor tugged at his own shirt sleeve and brought it up to wipe the mess from his face, cooing softly under his breath as he tended to him. 

“It’s alright now, Guillermo. See? All better!” He patted Guillermo’s plump cheek, his palm grazing over the layer of stubble that had grown in. Nandor kept talking despite the lifeless expression in Guillermo’s eyes. “You’ll be getting better soon! Just like Sean did once he was seeing his wife. Soon you will be o-akay!”

Not even a flicker of expression on his sweet human’s face. 

“Guillermo!” He dragged the human into his lap, pawing at him and simpering—  _ Nandor the Relentless! Simpering!  _ — apologetically. “I am sorry, My Guillermo. I should have pushed you away, I should have—”

As he pulled him forward, the rigid length of Guillermo’s penis brushed Nandor’s thigh and the human’s hips gyrated automatically, dragging the hardness against Nandor’s leg. The slightest, breathy cry fell from Guillermo’s lips as his head collapsed down onto Nandor’s shoulder, his hands clinging to the vampire’s thin linen nightshirt. Nandor stiffened, his hands hovering uncertainly over Guillermo’s back as the little man began shamelessly humping Nandor’s leg. His body remained limp, dead weight leaning into Nandor’s chest except for his hips which rolled in an increasing tempo.

_ What to do?! _ Nandor’s mouth set in an open grimace of uncertainty as his familiar wantonly rubbed himself against his thigh. He should be stopping this, surely? But some lost, nearly-forgotten chivalry echoed in the back of Nandor’s brain. Guillermo had just given Nandor a very satisfactory orgasm and now the man’s little penis was probably hurting him, it was so hard. Nandor should...reciprocate? He dilly-dallied, finally settling his giant paws on either side of Guillermo’s hips but determining not to engage more actively than that. It hardly mattered. In seconds the little man cried out pitifully, his pants dampening as he spilled his semen.

Guillermo collapsed, boneless, against Nandor. The vampire awkwardly patted him on the back. “Feeling better now, hm?”

Guillermo hummed happily, fingers digging into Nandor’s side. “Yes, master. Love you, master…” His voice sounded slurred and Nandor could already detect his breathing slowing as he fell asleep.

“I— I love you, too, Guillermo,” Nandor whispered for the first time. 

  
  


Guillermo was having a particularly bad day. Nandor helped him dress after rising from his coffin, but then the human insisted on play-acting in his old role as familiar. He cried when he spilled a goblet of blood all over his favorite sweater. Nandor tried consoling him, but nothing would work. Finally, he put him back to bed. Not trusting the security of the little room under the stairs, Nandor tucked Guillermo under a heavy fur on the chaise in his crypt and promised to look in on him soon. 

Nadja prowled into the fancy room a while later, finding Nandor at his desk, idly flipping through the house meeting minutes from the last decade.

“This has gone on long enough, Nandor,” she announced without preamble. Nandor felt a cold fist clench around his heart. Perhaps he had underestimated Nadja’s powers of observation… “You think I’m some common donkey brain incapable of recognizing a case of brain scramblies? How could you do that to poor Gizmo?”

Nandor’s already pulverized heart throbbed with hurt and he lashed out, slamming a fist onto the desk. “Guillermo! His name is Guillermo and you will be treating him with the respect he deserves!”

Nadja took a step back at his murderous tone even as she curled her lip at his words. “Very well, Nandor. But I am not the one who has melted his brains. What were you planning to do? Hide it from us for the rest of his pathetic life?”

Nandor’s eyes darted around nervously. His voice came out whining and plaintive. “No! I was hoping he would be getting better like Sean. But…” He trailed off, swallowing down his pride. “He is not getting better, Nadja. What do I do?”

“You stupid, lumbering turkey! You should have come to me at once! Guillermo is… well, he is not quite family...but he is staff! And we all know that you love him—”

“I do not— what has been making you believe— this is outrageous—!”

“No, no, darling,” Nadja interrupted. “That was not a question, just a statement. We all know you love him and I  _ do _ know of one with the power to heal him…”

“Who?” Nandor asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. The debacle of Wallace the Necromancer and Topher’s subsequent attack on Guillermo was still fresh in his memory.

Nadja’s lips curved into an awkward smile. “You know her, yourself, actually…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you to Haz for beta reading and for chatting with me about this story and encouraging me! ILY!
> 
> I demand comments.

“Memo!”

Several cloying female voices cried out at once as Nandor ushered Guillermo through the door of the witches’ apothecary. The vampire hissed protectively as the hags descended on his familiar, but Guillermo responded with a radiant smile. 

“Hi!” he greeted before turning to Nandor. “These are my friends, master! They’re witches!”

Nandor nodded and smiled while keeping his eyes trained on their hands lest they try anything with their sneaky incense and surgical instruments. 

“We worried when he didn’t show up for his weekly delivery…” one of the witches said, glaring at Nandor. “But we assumed you ate him.”

Nandor bristled, straightening his spine and tightening his hands on Guillermo’s shoulders. “Well, I didn’t. And I wouldn’t! Not that I need to be explaining myself to a bunch of semen stealers!”

The witches narrowed their eyes at him but quickly returned their attention to Guillermo, who preened beneath their petting hands and fawning words. “Don’t be mad at them, master! They’re nice to me!”

Something in the way that Guillermo said the words caused a little shivery feeling to stab through Nandor’s chest. The witches were nice to him, as opposed to…? Did Nandor not give Guillermo days off and buy him better snacks and respect his breaking times? Unwanted, his mind returned to their argument from the night that he had accidentally scrambled Guillermo’s brains.

_ “I just can’t be here anymore, Nandor,” Guillermo said and his words did not even sound angry. He sounded as if he were feeling guilty for what he was doing. Well, then why leave at all? _

_ “But, I have done everything you asked! I can do more! I’ll move your room. I-I’ll dress myself, just, please don’t—” _

_ “It’s not enough… I’m sorry…” _

Guillermo did not look sad or angry now. His warm face beamed affection at Nandor. The vampire felt all of his inadequacies from the past eleven years. He had been too aloof, too cold, too uncaring. All of this time Guillermo merely wanted to be assured of Nandor’s love…

Well, he would make up for it today. He would cure Guillermo and then… then if the little man still wanted to leave, Nandor he would wish him well. 

The closing of a door drew everyone’s attention to the back of the shop. Lilith strode toward them in all of her elegant, imperious glory. She smiled fondly at Guillermo, cupping her hand around his cheek for a moment before turning a cold eye on Nandor.

“The coven would not ordinarily deign to assist a vampire so reckless with his powers,” she said with a scolding tone that rankled Nandor’s pride. “However our business arrangement is too lucrative to abandon… and we really are quite fond of our Memo.”

Nandor bared his fangs in something that might be called a smile. “Very good of you to assist us in our time of need… do you have a herb or elixir…?” Nandor trailed off at the look on Lilith’s face.

“I’m afraid the treatment is a little more… invasive,” she explained with a moue of sympathy. “We’ll be working an incantation on little Memo’s mind. It’s complicated, taxing and, I’m afraid, not entirely painless. But it’s the only way…”

Nandor’s hands flexed, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of Guillermo’s shoulders. The little human looked up at him, his eyes shining, dumb and trusting.  _ He won’t understand,  _ Nandor thought to himself.  _ He won’t understand that it’s for his own good... _

“Would you give us a moment, please?” He asked, though his tone brooked no disagreement.

Lilith gave a solemn nod and gestured for the other witches to follow her into the back of the shop. Once they were gone Nandor turned Guillermo to face him, cupping his hands over the broad slabs of the familiar’s powerful shoulders. “Guillermo, you know that you have not been well?”

The human’s face flushed, blood pooling delectably beneath the surface of his skin. “I’m not… like I used to be…” Guillermo faltered, turning to look at the door behind which his friends had disappeared. Nandor could feel Guillermo’s lucidity slipping away. He’d been having such a good day…

“That’s right, Guillermo! Very good. But it’s okay now because your witchy friends can make you all better again, would you like that?”

Guillermo scrunched his face up, his eyes dancing about as if searching for the correct answer. “I… don’t know?”

Nandor sighed, throwing his head back in frustration. He did not wish to be making this decision for Guillermo… not after what he’d done already. “Guillermo.” He paused, composing himself. “Guillermo, we had a fight and I did something bad to you and that is why you get confused and forgetty sometimes. It is because I did a very wrong thing to you that I should not have done. But the witches can make it all better and you will be remembering who you are and, and… you might not like me very much after that. But I think that you will be happy to be healed, yes?”

Guillermo’s eyes had started to glaze over; he’d clearly latched onto only key words from Nandor’s explanation. “That’s silly, master. I love you!”

Without warning a sob choked its way from Nandor’s throat and he wrapped Guillermo in a fierce hug. “I love you too, my Guillermo. And afterwards, when you hate me, I will still love you. Remember that, please.”

“Okay, master,” Guillermo hummed mindlessly, a smile in his voice. He locked his arms around Nandor’s middle and sighed, melting into the embrace. “Mmm… long hug.”

  
  


Guillermo followed Nandor meekly into the cavernous back room where the witches held their unholy ceremonies and also their Zumbo classes or whatever. Nandor felt Guillermo’s fingers latch onto his sleeve as they stepped forward. He huddled into Nandor’s side, his cheery demeanor slipping away as shivers wracked his body. “I don’t like this place, master,” he whispered.

“I know, but look! All of your friends are here. And… I am here, Guillermo. I will not leave your side.”

Judith and Lilith approached wearing twin looks of sympathy and trepidation. Judith gestured to an upright slab, the very same kind used to hold Nandor and Laszlo when they were kidnapped. “He’ll need to be restrained,” she explained. “He’ll struggle and… it’s dangerous to interrupt the spell.”

Nandor’s hand shook but he turned to Guillermo wearing a mask of self-assurance. “Up you go, Guillermo! It’s not scary at all.” He tugged Guillermo up onto the dais, fastening the straps himself while the human quaked. “I’m not leaving you,” he whispered so only Guillermo could hear. But he wasn’t even certain that the human did hear him. His breath rattled shakily from his lungs and he moaned low in his throat.

“Sisters,” Lilith began, holding out her arms. The witches surrounded them in a semicircle and though Nandor knew they were there to help, he could not prevent the quiet, protective hiss from escaping his mouth. They ignored him, though, focusing all their attention on the shivering little human tied to the cold stone slab. “We are here to direct our healing intentions to our brother, Guillermo. Clear your minds of all emotion. All malice, all passion, all fear, all joy. Focus only on Memo and the wound that cleaves his mind in twain. Restore him, sisters. Restore his memories…” She paused and locked eyes with Nandor, who felt the burning accusation directed at him. “...All of them. And make him whole once more.”

They began chanting in tongues. Almost at once Guillermo let out a howl that turned into a high-pitched shriek. “Stop! Stop it! It hurts! Master, help me!” He begged, using up every last bit of his verbal energy until he subsided into wordless screams and moans. 

Nandor grabbed hold of his hands, staring at his poor Guillermo’s stricken face. “It will be over soon!” he cried. “You’ll be all better and-and you won’t hurt ever again because I will not allow it. Do you understand?”

Nandor wished— he prayed! The words burning his throat— for Guillermo to forgive him. For Guillermo to say that yes, he did understand and all was well. But instead the little human cried and screamed for a long, long time. 

Nandor thought the ritual would go on forever, but then, abruptly, it was over. The witches fell silent in unison and Guillermo hung from his restraints, sweating and panting. Nandor looked round wildly at Lilith. “How do we know if…?”

“Nandor…” Guillermo spoke and his tone was transformed. The bland, stupid monotony was gone. So too was his blind affection and cheer. “Nandor, get me out of this thing.”

* * *

Guillermo’s hand was already on the doorknob when Nandor stumbled, bleary-eyed, from his crypt. Guillermo ripped his hand away as if he’d been burned. Visions of lethal sunlight lancing through his helpless master caused his throat to spasm in panic. 

“Master! Nandor! What the fuck are you doing up? It’s daylight, you could’ve been killed!”

“Hey, watch it!” Nandor chastised. He was dressed for coffin in a loose, open collared shirt that billowed out, leaving his hairy chest bare to Guillermo’s gaze. A pair of knee-length britches left his calves and long, knobbly feet on full display as well. 

Guillermo steadfastly turned his eyes away, swallowing. “I didn’t think you’d be awake for this…”

Nandor suddenly stepped forward, finally noticing Guillermo’s suitcases. “Guillermo! Where are you going with your satchels?”

Guillermo’s mouth wobbled and his eyes pricked with tears, but he forced out the words. “I’m leaving… Nandor. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.”

Nandor paced forward, trapping Guillermo against the door. What could he do? If he dared open the door he could kill Nandor. And though he was angry, hurt, confused… he never wanted Nandor to die.

“Is this because you are a vampire killer?” Nandor asked, ducking his head to meet Guillermo’s eyes. His tone was quiet and sympathetic, like he hadn’t just dropped a fucking bomb on Guillermo’s brain.

“You… you know about that?”

Nandor shrugged. “Well, you killed the Baron and Carol. Those were pretty major clues! Plus you’ve been so sneaky and secretive lately…” Nandor’s eyes trailed up and down Guillermo’s short frame. Guillermo wondered what he saw. A weak, chubby human? A strong, powerful slayer? A servant? A friend? Something more…  _ No, no, stop that. We’re not thinking those thoughts anymore. _

“Well, then, you know why I have to leave. I can’t stay here… serving you guys… killing your kind… wanting to  _ be _ one of your kind… and never, ever feeling like you even care—"

Nandor shook his head as if he could shake off Guillermo’s feelings like annoying gnats. “Enough of this talk, Guillermo! You will not leave! I forbid it!”

Anger rose like floodwater. “You have to be fucking kidding me? I did everything you asked of me for eleven years, Nandor. Eleven years! Because you said you’d make me a vampire. Because you said we’d be… equal one day! Partners! But that’s never going to happen and now that I finally have something else in my life you want to—”

“Fine. You want to be a vampire so badly. Fine.” Nandor was suddenly on top of Guillermo, pressing him roughly against the door and clawing at the collar of his shirt. 

Guillermo panicked, struggling against Nandor’s hands, slapping him away from his exposed neck. “No! That’s not… it’s not what I want anymore, master!” 

But Nandor wouldn’t stop. He kept pawing at Guillermo, pressing into him with the length of his powerful body and shaking with emotion. Guillermo kept fighting, but it became clear that Nandor didn’t have the heart to take him by force. He was crying, clinging to Guillermo and then, all at once, crashing his mouth against Guillermo’s. 

The kiss was bruising and forceful. Hard and insistent. It didn’t feel like the completion that Guillermo imagined after a decade of pining. It didn’t feel like love or acceptance or kindness. It felt like something bitter and familiar. Manipulation. Guillermo shoved Nandor away, gasping and wiping his mouth. Tears spilled down his cheeks.

“How could you do that?” His voice came out trembling. And then, finally, “I just can’t be here anymore, Nandor.”

Nandor panicked. “But I have done everything you asked! I can do more! I’ll move your room. I-I’ll dress myself, just, please don’t—”

“It’s not enough… I’m sorry…”

Guillermo turned to the door, hand on the knob, intent on squeezing through and escaping Nandor’s emotional warfare. But before he could do so, he felt Nandor’s hand on his shoulder spinning him around and then a voice, deep, lulling, powerful…

**“Guillermo, you will forget.”**

* * *

Guillermo laid on the twin bed in his childhood bedroom and stared up at the  _ Interview with the Vampire _ poster tacked to the ceiling. He needed to take it down, but he didn’t have the energy. He’d been home a few hours, but his suitcases still stood by the door, packed. He would deal with them tomorrow. He’d deal with everything tomorrow. 

His amá didn’t ask questions when he turned up on her doorstep with eyes bloodshot from crying, carrying everything he owned in the world in a couple of suitcases and a duffle bag. She just ushered him inside and made him a plate of food. For that he was eternally grateful.

Now that he was alone, the memories restored by the witches came flooding back, assaulting him. The fight with Nandor, that betrayal of a first kiss… the hypnosis. After that everything felt dull, as if he were watching a movie through frosted glass. He remembered what happened to him but it was as if it had all happened to another person. God, he wished it had happened to someone else…

Guillermo could stomach the memories of helplessness, of fawning over Nandor, even the memories of admitting feelings he’d kept carefully bottled for over a decade. But he couldn’t forgive himself for what he’d done, nor Nandor for letting it happen. He’d thrown himself at the vampire. Unbidden, the phantom sensation returned to him: Nandor’s rigid erection sliding in and out of Guillermo’s soft, drooling mouth. He swallowed down bile even as his own cock twitched in automatic arousal.  _ Fuck. _

Guillermo lay in bed for a long time, seeking sleep and finding only tormented memories. Finally, shutting off the part of his brain that felt shame, he palmed himself through his sweatpants. His cock thickened beneath his touch and he imagined going down on Nandor again. This time he’d be in full possession of his faculties. Nandor would buck and plead and mewl and Guillermo would let his teeth  _ just _ scrape his sensitive skin. He came hard, biting his fist to stifle the moan that threatened to give him away through the thin apartment walls. He fell asleep shortly after; his dreams were mercifully silent.

  
  
  
  


In the car afterwards, Guillermo finally had time to think. The vampires were crammed inside the SUV, Nandor in the passenger seat, face set into a perma-scowl. Nadja, Laszlo and Colin Robinson were squeezed together in the back. All night Guillermo had acted on instinct. The second he realized that Nandor was in danger, the hurt, the anger, the confusion fell away. He had only one goal. To save Nandor. But now that Nandor was safe— for the moment, anyway— he was once again confronted with the gravity of what had taken place between them. 

The ride back to Staten Island was silent. When they arrived home—  _ No, not home… God, he wanted it to be home still _ — Nadja, Laszlo and Colin all slunk back into the house, giving Guillermo a wide berth. But Nandor at least had the decency not to look at him as if he were some fiendish murderer. He lingered in the passenger seat, fiddling with the hem of his cape and staring into his lap. Long minutes of silence passed before he finally found his voice.

“So, you are well then. No more brain scramblies.”

“Nope,” Guillermo replied, popping the “p” sarcastically. “That’s what happens when you stop living with vampires. Fewer cases of hypnosis induced memory loss. I’m also getting eight hours of sleep a night.”

“That’s wonderful, Guillermo. Good for you,” Nandor replied on automatic. Guillermo rolled his eyes. “Guillermo I want to know if… that is, would you be willing to tell me something?”

Guillermo hesitated, watching Nandor’s bold, rugged profile. The normally proud and forthright vampire was diminished tonight. But something told Guillermo it wasn’t merely his close brush with true death causing the change. Nandor wasn’t acting afraid of Guillermo as the others had been. He was acting… ashamed. He wouldn’t meet Guillermo’s eyes, his shoulders were rounded and his head hung low. 

“What is it?” Guillermo asked, his voice going annoyingly husky with emotion.

“Only, I was wanting to know... do you have all of your memories back now? All of the ones from… from when you were brain scramblied, too, I mean?” Nandor shifted in his seat, tugging the cape tighter around his body like a security blanket.

“I… yes, Nandor and I really don’t want to talk about what happened. I wasn’t in my right mind and you shouldn’t have let me do… what I did—”

“I am knowing this, Guillermo. I hurt you and then I hurt you again by not… stopping some things from happening. I tried to, but— but that is not enough. I only wanted to know if you are remembering what I said to you at the witches’ apothecary?”

Guillermo recalled the words at once. He’d replayed them over and over again in the week since he’d walked away from Nandor.

_ “I love you too, my Guillermo. And afterwards, when you hate me, I will still love you. Remember that, please.” _

Guillermo hated himself for going back to those words. For letting them echo through his thoughts as he lay awake at night. He hated that he couldn’t stop thinking about Nandor’s cruel kiss and his gentle hands and the look in his eyes during the restoration ritual— as if Guillermo’s pain were his own. He wanted to forget how wonderful it had felt to be uninhibited for the first time in his life. To freely admit his love for Nandor without fear or anxiety. Because Guillermo wanted to be mad. He wanted to stay angry forever, but looking at Nandor now, beaten and diminished and holding his cold, dead heart out to him like the unworthy gift that it was… all Guillermo wanted to do was fall into his arms and that was… that was not what he was supposed to want.

When Guillermo didn’t reply right away, Nandor finally looked up, catching his gaze and seeing… something there that caused his face to fold into a look of crestfallen surrender. Guillermo watched his large, pale hand reach for the door handle and pause. “I would have taken care of you until the end of time… if the witches had been unsuccessful. I would have bathed you and clothed you and tucked you in at night and tried to make you as happy as I could…” He stopped, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he struggled to find words. “And… I still would if you would let me, Guillermo.”

Nandor got out of the car and walked into the house. 

Guillermo sat there for a long time, letting the engine idle. He watched the dark facade of the house with it’s glowing, papered-over windows and ghoulish gargoyles flanking the front steps. He imagined Nandor undressing himself and slowly walking round his crypt, blowing out the candles for safety. He tried to weigh eleven years of neglect against a few weeks of guilt-ridden care and a single promise. 

The horizon glowed with pale light as Guillermo turned the key in the ignition and slipped out of the car. Gravel crunched under his blood spattered shoes as he walked up to the house. 

He found Nandor in his crypt, still awake and sitting on the chaise lounge by the door. He walked in wordlessly, sitting down beside him and then, all at once, melting into his side with pure exhaustion. 

With an air of swallowed nerves, Nandor asked, “Do you wish to discuss everything?”

Guillermo yawned, his jaw cracking and his eyes scrunching shut. He wrapped his arms around Nandor and pillowed his head on his chest. It was an easy liberty he would have taken during the brainless days. “Tomorrow,” he murmured.

Nandor was the one to put Guillermo to bed, guiding him up the staircase and carefully skirting around corpses. He tucked him into the big bed in the blue room, eyes shivering with nerves as he leaned down to brush his lips against Guillermo’s. The kiss was everything that their first kiss was not. It was soulful and aching and loving and tender and promising and terrified. Nandor pulled away and watched for Guillermo’s reaction.

Guillermo looked up at him and smiled.


End file.
